St Bartleby's School For Young Gentlemen
by Bluetory
Summary: I find it impossible that you have never wondered what child prodigy Artemis Fowl gets up to at school. As talented as he is, have you ever wanted to know how it all started? To look at the backstory of the cold, seemingly unsocial boy? Reviews are loved
1. Preliminary

**.Number One**

St Bartleby's, if you ask any knowing stranger you just so happen to meet, would be roughly defined as a school for the insanely rich and well off, the sons and heirs to exceedingly prestigious figures, perhaps a vice president, a highly successful Member of Parliament or maybe even a mastermind behind a huge business enterprise.

Attendance to the school was less to learn, in an aspect, but more to do with pride. Going to the school could be worn as a badge of good taste and elegance to the more appreciative, but to our said man - or rather, boy in question, it was simply, and excuse my bluntness, the cherry on his cake.

It would be pure idiocy, now I've got this far, to assume that you have not yet grasped who I am referring to. If you've heard of him once, you're highly unlikely to forget, and let me assure you, you have definitely heard of him.

A couple of years ago, his name - or his father's name, to be more accurate, was plastered on every screen, over every TV set; worldwide.

The headlines, with their usual sour humor, boasted things like, '_Sinking of the Fowl Star Causes Enterprise Meltdown But Free Cola For Everyone_', '_Violent Delights Come to Violent Ends - Artemis Fowl I Goes Missing After Half Decade Criminal Scams_', '_The World's Decline in Criminals Rises_'.

Oh, don't get me wrong. They were all very good, money making, eye catching, whatever it may be: I care surprisingly little about how you want to put it, but to a smart 10 year old boy, who's father was the missing man in said headlines, it was more than a little cutting.

Of course, in response to it all, he just hacked into the systems and replaced the 'Main Headlines' with videos of wallpaper drying as a little payback, which caused mass confusion and angered, fist shaking editors, but that's a different story.

I can sit here all day, telling you about the various skirmishes of Artemis Fowl (if you didn't guess who our protagonist was already), and still have a handful left for the following week or so; which, quite frankly, is exactly what I'm going to do.

If you've read a certain Mr. Eoin Colfer's biography of the child genius, you may have heard of the said place, 'St Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen', and if you have, give yourself a pat on the back for having such a good taste in books.

So, our Mr. Eoin Colfer has documented nearly every prospect of Artemis's life. From start to end, he's nearly written everything, from the beginning to the showdown. _Nearly_ everything. But school.

And school, and I should certainly know, takes up a considerable amount of your time.

Time spent plotting? Behaving like a normal boy? But no, not time wasted. Artemis Fowl can not be accused for wasting time.

So.

What _did_ Artemis Fowl get up to in school?

_- Extract from Doctor B. Renolds book "Define 'Fowl'"_

**I'm back! :D Switzerland was nice ^^ V. Pretty.**

**I'm back in school now :T Year 10 _ I feel old.**

**I found this old series I used to read, and I love it again XD SO, I will write a fanfic about it! But I will still continue the MI one :)  
><strong>

**Want the next chapter? I like reviews. That was a hint. Artemis Fowl © to our lovely Mr. Eoin Colfer. :P  
><strong>

**Hope you likey :) **


	2. Percipience

**Thank you, ah, 'A little mistake' for correcting my fault in the previous chapter :) I will change it immidiately, thank you! XD And thank you everyone else! :) I am glad you like my writing! :) -hugs-  
><strong>

**.Number two **

Artemis was far from a normal boy even from the early stages of his life.

Even when other children his age were content with crawling around on the floor with their toy trucks, and barely managing the odd illegible word, Artemis had been able to initiate intelligent conversation, and he had found an odd liking towards reading encyclopedias.

From the age of 3, he had developed a passion for piano and chess, and was fond of giving lectures on quantum physics and other intricate subjects to his peers (mainly his butler... Butler, his father and, much to their alarm, the house maids that were there to care for his not quite childish needs). Maths especially, was... ehem, child's play for him.

When he turned 5, he was composing his own movements on piano and he had secretly been hacking into Swiss bank accounts, just to see if he could. (Being a child still, he couldn't help creating at least some sort of havoc and mixing accounts around, panicking everyone. The Swiss banks upped their security after that.)

Of course, with a brain like his, his parents were more than willing to pay for home tutors to educate him even more, but Artemis refused to speak with the best of them, claiming that they did not know what they were talking about, which, if you could explain quantum physics as well as Artemis, would be what you would be claiming as well.

But through all his mental superiority, his mother was still concerned for him.

"Don't you want to go to join any clubs? There'll be lots of boys your age there, Arty, maybe you'll make some friends!" Angeline Fowl said brightly.

"I don't want to join any clubs, mother." He would reply, already preoccupied with something else.

"Maybe we could go to the park then? How about that?"

"I don't want to go out, mother, I'm busy."

Angeline's smile would waver a bit, but it was unlike her to give up so easily. A 5 year old boy busy with what exactly? Computers, science. Physics. What kind of 5 year old is busy with_ physics_?

_It's not natural._ Angeline decided,_ It's not natural for boys his age to shut himself away from everyone else._

Angeline was not stupid. She would stop persisting._ For today anyway_, she thought.

But Artemis wasn't stupid either. Far from it. He decided it would be best to keep closer tabs on his mother just to make sure she wouldn't make any more extreme measures to send him somewhere obscene to "make friends"._ I will be expecting it_. He mused - well, as a 5 year old boy muses.

So it came to no surprise to anyone, that when he finally turned 6, and his parents were ready to send him off to school to "make friends" with other kids more his age, Artemis was there to eavesdrop into the conversation. His parents were elated. One of his parents anyway. The other was not quite so anticipating.

"Artemis is too good for these juvenile classes," his father voiced, after seeing the brochures, titled, 'Junior schooling for the younger children' that St Bartleby's had sent over. Artemis had seen them before him, catching the postman at the gates, playing the cute little son of some rich family. Then having Butler press one of the postman's seven points of mobility and having them dragged out, unconscious. He could have done it differently, but he felt that it would probably better that way.

"So that is why I think he should skip straight onto adult classes. The faster he finishes school, the better. It has never done myself any justice, and you know I'm only doing this for you, Angeline."

Artemis's shoulder's sagged a bit and he swung his legs uneasily, running his fingers down the spine of the book. He was sitting on a high bookshelf that he had asked Butler to help him onto a while ago, and then sent him away, making him promise not to tell a soul. Not exactly efficient. This was the sort of 'blind faith' that he would soon change in life. He had his back to the wall that divided the Fowl library from the great hall, where his parents were - oblivious of his presence - discussing his future schooling. It was a perfect place. If they found him, he could just play it off that he was simply browsing through some books, as he usually was., if they did find him. Which was unlikely. He was hidden too well from below. Only one who knew where to look for him would be able to. His mother took on a new pitch of tone, agitated and annoyed. A premature frown creased his forehead, but he determinedly kept his eyes on the book, not looking up once.

Angeline Fowl was distraught. "You can't do that to Arty, he's just a normal boy!"

"I'm not normal." murmured Artemis thoughtfully, his eyes still scanning the pages of the book.

"He's not normal." complied Artemis Fowl Snr., almost simultaneously. Artemis could visualize his smile; in his minds eye, it was show of perfectly even white teeth. "He's a Fowl."

**Review or I will make this face :(**

**This is just a 'short intro' before we get to the awesome part.**


	3. Convergence

**Sorry for taking so long to submit! Have school and all that stuff. Sorry for such a confusing chapter! You'll hopefully understand as the story goes on. This sounds rushed, because I've got to go catch an appointment. Apologies and thanks for reading. If you like it review! Thank you dear readers!**

**.Number three**

Perhaps it's time for some background information before we move on.

St Bartleby's is tactfully described by the Fowls as 'family tradition'. Simply put, it means that generation after generation of Fowls - even before the times of the infamous Lord Hugo de Folé - attended the school (and bear in mind that they were all males. The linage seems to have some trouble producing a female for reasons unknown - and I wouldn't wish to tell you anyway, even if I did know; because then I would only have to change the rating.)

Anyhow, records say that St Bartleby's was initially built as the holiday home in Ireland for the rich Englishman Bartleby Belet. Nearing the end of his, dare I say it, do-gooder life, he declared that he wished for his supplementary home (which he had built so many attachments on over the years that is was nearly double the size it was before), to be turned into a school to, as he put it, 'educate the promising young gentlemen in generations to come'.

No one important outwardly objected, so henceforth, plain old St Bartleby's holiday house was magically transformed into St Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen, minus the magic.

Oh, I know what you are thinking. It's not exactly a glamorous background for our more-than-glamorous protagonist, young master Fowl, but in those days, being classed as a 'Saint' was what you would refer to now as being, how should I put it;- 'awesome', as much as I despise to use such street talk.

Nonetheless, it would do you no harm to know that St Bartleby's is located in Wicklow, just South of Dublin. I will do my best to describe the scenery to you, but describing true beauty so well is beyond my capabilities; especially now that it is summer.

So now, we will start.

**Xx _Victoria _****_planto sacraficia _****xX**

Trees flashed by.

Artemis stared out of the window of the Fowl Bently. Butler sat opposite him, checking to see if all his weapons were still intact, as he had done every five seconds for the last hour of the drive. He sat next to his mother, who was fussing over the state of Artemis's shoes, which, as always, were spotless and so smoothly polished, that one looking at the shoes would wonder if such a ridiculous thing as dirt existed. Obviously Angeline Fowl considered it not enough and wanted all the onlookers, who had such ignorance to dare look at the shoes to be blinded and swept away by the sheer force of the shine.

_Nerves, _decided Artemis. _The same thing that is making Butler and myself so restless. Butler is checking his weapons, as he always does before a fight, perhaps to take his mind of things, and I am exaggerating everything in such ridiculous detail._

Tactfully dropping the matter, Artemis let his gaze sweep lazily over to the front of the Bently, where undoubtedly his father was apparently 'having a casual chat' with the driver. (His mother was still raging in the background, but Artemis decided it was best not to interrupt her rant, if it made her feel better to rant, then so be it.)

Artemis nearly rolled his eyes - at his fathers statement, of course, not his mothers rant - the driver was an ex-worker going under another opposing company, which if Artemis remembered correctly, was called 'Landers' Industries'. The two major companies had been at each other's throats for months, and the Fowls had no clue why the Landers' Industries employee had decided to take up work as a driver for them, as it certainly meant demotion.

His father was trying to get every piece of information out of him, inconspicuously, and while he was driving. And he should be safe, his father was known for taking precautions, and besides, he had the Major with him, so what could go wrong?

Artemis nearly winced. Bad question.

He sighed, and returned to staring out of the window.

He was nervous. He didn't know _why_, but he was extremely nervous. Ever since his mother had brought up the notion of sending Artemis away early, for school - no, sending him to St Bartleby's, he had a sense of unease nudging at him. Something didn't add up. Something didn't- No.

Artemis dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand to punish himself for thinking in such a way.

_Nerves make me jump to conclusions,_ he decided; even nerves with unknown symptoms. _This year, I am six. I have never been to a school before, and the idea of boarding must make me feel uncomfortable. It is understandable for me to feel nervous to going to a new place, plus I rarely meet with boys my own age. I am already so much more superior than many of my elders, after all, and allegedly, a person can't be perfect in every way. _He watched coolly as one of the footmen accompanying them ungraciously spilt a jug of Darjeeling tea on the expensive floor rug. _Well, maybe _I_ can,_ thought Artemis with distaste, looking away.

He was dressed in the customary uniform: a black tail suit, with pinstripe dress trousers. The letter sent over had also requested that the student would also wear a top hat, but Artemis profoundly refused. Juliet had told him that he looked cute with the top hat, causing Artemis to enthusiastically throw the top hat out of the top window of the Manor and into the small woodland next door.

Naturally, there was no complaint. _No one_ orders a Fowl around.

Artemis was jolted out of his train of thought, when his mother took hold of his arm, hard, her nerves getting the better of her.

_They weren't doing too badly before, either,_ contemplated Artemis.

"We're here." She announced; her eyes on the view outside.

Artemis followed her gaze…

… And was met by the most alluring building he had ever set eyes on - and he had seen quite a lot (but only in books, of course). Tall towers lined the edges of the building, an orchard and garden was in sight to his left and a the sudden sweeping view of the different colours and textures of the fields in the distance gave for a heart wrenching composition.

It lay in the shallow dip of a large valley, surrounded by a large, well-kept field. The path leading to the gated entrance was dirt red, and bordered by identical looking round, green trees. But as beautiful as it was, the sun was now consistently glaring down at them, now that they were out of the cover of the woodland and Artemis, who was not one for the likes of 'fresh air' suddenly had the urge to wind the window down. His mother beat him to it, and the Bently was suddenly filled with the warm summer air, mixed with the enticing smell of flowers in new bloom, and rich tones of honey. It smelt delicious.

But all too soon, it came to an end. The car slowed to a stop, and a smooth turn brought them to the formidable black iron front gates of the school.

A click sounded, and the gates slowly swung open, and the car began to move again.

He tore his eyes away from outside, and began to pick up his bags, suddenly unsure. He raised his head, and locked eyes with Butler. He looked wary, for some reason Artemis couldn't fathom.

Butler gave a small, tight smile, and pocketed his Sig Sauer that he was inspecting.

The car stopped. Angeline Fowl breathed out deeply. Butler quickly took in his surroundings.

Artemis tried to shake off the increasingly confusing sense of usease.

Something isn't right.

Something isn't-

_We're here,_ mouthed Butler with an expression that said that he didn't know what was going on either.

**FAQ - (for questions people surely will ask) **

**Why is Artemis so stuck up?**

**_Ans: Because he was a kid then, and remember, kid Arty was so obnoxious and full of himself! Hopefully, throughout my FanFiction, you will gradually see some change. _****_J_**

**Why does he have maids and footpeople?**

**_Ans: Because he had them before the Fowl empire squafoodled and so._**

**Why is there no plot?**

**_Ans: THERE IS! I'm just getting to it! The plot is already beginning to build here in this chapter!_**

**When is the next time you will update?**

**_Ans: Once I finish all my homework, pass all my tests, and shizz. Soon._**

**You are so old?**

**_Ans: I know, don't rub it in._**


End file.
